


now you're knocking at my door

by punkjuggie



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Michael Guerin, M/M, Soulmates, Supportive Max Evans, alien reveal, cosmic love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-23 12:47:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18152075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkjuggie/pseuds/punkjuggie
Summary: Alex wakes up in the middle of the night, skin buzzing and ears ringing; then Michael shows up.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: [...] would you do one where Michael gets hurt and Alex freaks out and tries to get him to go to the hospital/ calls Max and Izzy [...] sent in by a-little-bit-of-lizerature on tumblr. Thank you! I was also asked to continue it so it will be a two parter, second part will probably be up later this week.

Alex jolts awake in the middle of the night to find his walls shaking. It’s faint, nothing dangerous, as if the source of the trembling is further away and this is just what’s left in theaftermath. Maybe a small earthquake or something, although Roswell hasn’t hadan earthquake in the last decade. Alex doesn’t put too much thought into it.  

He lies down and tries to go backto sleep but his body is on high alert for some reason. His heart is beating fast and he feels like his skin is buzzing and there’s a faint high-pitched sound ringing in his ears. He doesn’t know how long he tosses and turns in his bed, but when he hears a sudden  _thump_ at the door, Alex is almost grateful for the distraction.

He makes his way to the front door, the cabin dark and silent in the dead of the night, and rationally, Alex knows he should be cautious; anyone could be out there on the other side. Still, as unlikely as it seems, the buzzing under his skin and the ringing in his ears seem to get louder as he approaches the front door and Alex isn’t going back to bed before getting to the bottom of this. He quickly glances at his crutch standing against the wall next to the door and Alex supposes that this will do if he’s about to get attacked in his own home.

What he doesn’t expect, upon swinging the door open, is to find a half-conscious Michael Guerin collapsing in his arms.

 “What the fuck?” Alex asks and heknows this is probably not his most eloquent moment, but this is the best his mind can conjure at 3 AM with a bloody Michael in his arms.

 “Sorry, didn’t mean to barge in like that,” Michael slurs against his neck. “Door was kinda holding me up,” he explains and has the nerve to look almost sheepish, grinning with a mouthful of blood.

“You’re bleeding,” Alex points out dumbly and Michael raises an eyebrow, looking incredibly cocky despite his messed up face.

And by God is his face messed up.He’s covered in grime and sweat and he’s still bleeding profusely from the nose, which probably explains the mouthful of blood. He’s also got dried blood coming out of his ears and a deep cut across his cheek that looks like it might be getting infected. He’s barely standing up on his own, leaning heavily against Alex but Alex can’t seem to find any apparent leg injury. Small victories.

Alex slowly leads Michael to the living room and sets him gently on the couch, crouching in front of him to inspect more closely the damage.

“What happened?” Alex asks, holdingup a tissue to Michael’s nose. Michael takes it and winces slightly when he touches his nose but his face remains otherwise blank.

“This? That’s nothing you gotta worry your pretty little head about,” he says dismissively, flashing Alex a bloody smile, but it’s hard to make a point when you look about two secondsaway from passing out.

Alex sighs and reaches out to push Michael’s hair away from his face. He frowns when his hand brushes against his forehead and finds the skin boiling hot. “You’re running a high fever,” he says, pressing his hand against one cheek, then the other. Michael closes hiseyes and lets himself slump against Alex’s hand, leaning into the touch. “Michael, we need to get you to the hospital.”

Michael’s eyes snap open then, andhe looks around the room like he just realized where he was. His gaze falls back on Alex, searching almost, scanning his face and down his body. “Are you okay?” he asks him, and his voice isn’t amused or cocky anymore. Instead he sounds alarmed and Alex has no idea what’s going on.

 “Am I—Michael, you’re the one who showed up half dead on my doorstep.”

“The blast,” Michael mutters, hands reaching up the cup Alex’s face. “I had to come here, make sure you were safe.” His eyes lose focus for a moment and it’s like he’s staring right through Alex, unseeing him. “Alex has to be safe.”

“I’m right here, I’m okay,” he assures him, placing his hand over Michael’s still on his face, squeezing softly. “I think you might have a concussion though.”

He reaches out to Michael’s pockets, hoping to find his truck keys but he comes up empty. “Michael, where are your keys? You need to see a doctor.”

Michael shakes his head. “No keys.”

Alex frowns. “Did you—Did you walk all the way here?”

“No hospitals,” Michael repeats, ignoring Alex, or perhaps not hearing him. “You gotta,” he pauses and coughs into the bloody tissue. “You gotta call Max. Tell him to bring acetone, he’ll know what it’ll mean.”

“What it’ll mean? Michael, that just sounds like he’ll be bringing acetone! What you need is a doctor—”

“Alex, please,” Michael says and his voice is so weak, he barely sounds like the man Alex knows—knew. After ten years apart, Alex isn’t sure if he’s really allowed to say he knows him anymore. “Max will know what to do.”

Alex purses his lips, ready to argue again but there’s a look in Michael’s eyes, pleading with him, and Alex knows he can’t refuse him anything at this point. “I’ll call him,” he says,hand in his pocket to grab his phone. “But you gotta let me clean up your face while we wait for him.”

Michael groans. “I can’t stay here. Not safe,” he grunts out.

 Alex stops typing. “What do you mean not safe?”

“I need to leave, keep my distances. Not safe,” he’s shaking and sweating and Alex wishes he would just sit still so they can figure out just  _what the fuck_  is going on. “Not safe for you. When I’m around.”

Alex shakes his head and puts his hand on Michael’s shoulders to push him back to the couch and force him to stay there. “Michael, I’m  _fine_ ,” he assures him. “I’ve survived my dad, I’ve survived high school, I’ve survived the  _war_.”

Michael looks at him with heavy-lidded eyes and yet he still manages to look concerned, which sounds ironic to Alex when he’s the one who looks like he’s just been through a blender and barely made it out alive.

“So there’s nothing you could do or say that would make me change my mind. I always feel safest when I’m with you, Michael. If the last ten years taught me anything, it’s that.”

He gently grabs a hold of Michael’s chin, turning his head to one side and the other. “I’m gonna call Max and hopefully he can tell me what’s going on. And meanwhile, I’m gonna take care of this,” he says, gesturing at Michael’s blood and dirt. “Because you’re pretty, but right now you do look pretty fucked up,” he says fondly, fingers lightly tracing his face. “And when your brain works normally again and I’m sure you’re not concussed, you’re gonna explain what this is all about. Okay?”

Michael smiles, and boy, he does look like shit, but that smile still turns Alex’s stomach upside down like he’s seventeen and stupidly in love.

Instead he’s twenty-seven and cleaning up Michael Guerin’s face in the middle of the night, waiting for Max Evans to show up at this door and somehow, it’s not the worst way Alex can imagine spending a night.

So perhaps he’s twenty-seven and  _still_ stupidly in love. Alex’s alright with that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max assesses the damage and drops some truth bombs on Alex; Alex drops some bombs of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this part was partly written before 1x09 and boy oh boy did the show deliver. I'm not saying I'm psychic but cosmic love? I was here for it. Part two was requested to me on tumblr so here it is, enjoy!

Max gets to Alex’s house and doesn’t bother knocking. _Just come in when you get here_ , Alex had told him and that’s what he does. “Michael?” he calls out as he shuts the door behind him.

 

“In here,” Alex answers instead and Max follows his voice to the living room.

 

It’s not a pretty sight. Michael is on the couch, unclear if he’s conscious or not, and Alex is sitting beside him with a pile of bloody tissues and washcloth stained pink. There’s also a small bottle of rubbing alcohol on the coffee table with its cap off and Max’s heart stops for a second.

 

“Tell me he didn’t drink hydrogen peroxide,” Max says and Alex turns to look at him with disbelieving eyes.

 

“ _No_ ,” he states, shocked. “I used it to clean his wound. Why would I make him drink this?”

 

Max sighs, relieved. This makes sense. “I don’t know,” Max says. “He might have asked for it.”

 

“Did you bring it?” Michael slurs, raising his head from Alex’s shoulder.

 

Max can finally take a good look at Michael’s face, and the damage is bad. He looks pale, paler than he’s looked in a long while, except for the dark spots around his eyes. His eyes themselves look sunken and glassy and he’s got a deep cut on his right cheek where the skin has turned to a sickly yellow.

 

He looks bad and that doesn’t calm the knot of anxiety pulling tight in his stomach. Still, he smiles as he sit down on his other side, hoping it comes out reassuring and more hopeful than he feels. “Yeah bud, I got you the good stuff,” he says, pulling out bottles and bottles of acetone from the bag at his feet.

 

“What’s this for?” Alex asks, suspicious. Michael doesn’t seem to be hearing him, all his attention on the bottle in Max’s hand, his arms shaking as he reaches for it.

 

Max’s mind blanks for a moment and he realizes that there’s nothing he can say that will make this not _super fucking weird_. There is no logical, rational explanation he can whip out. He’s gonna have to tell the truth.

 

“Numbs the pain, promotes cell regeneration. Helps a little with the recovery,” Max says, helping raise the bottle to Michael’s mouth.

 

“Wait—no!” Alex yells, reaching to slap the bottle out of Michael’s hand, but Max is faster so he just swats his arm away.

 

“Alex, it’s okay,” Max says and Alex slumps back into the couch, watching Michael swallow down the nail polish remover in no time, Max already uncapping the next bottle.

 

“How—” Alex manages, gesturing with his hand at the scene in front of him when the rest of the words won’t come out.

 

“I’m sure you’re familiar with the 1947 crash that happened in Roswell,” Max says in explanation, keeping his focus on Michael. He’s slowing down, he notices, and soon he’ll be passing out from the exhaustion. That’s a good sign.

 

“Yeah, the Air Forces’ balloon,” Alex answers automatically but he is still staring intently at Michael, so he doesn’t notice Max’s eyeroll.

 

“You don’t actually believe that Alex, do you?”

 

“I have to,” Alex says, voice haunted. “Because otherwise it means my dad was right.”

 

Max tenses. Michael isn’t drinking anymore, so Max places him back gently against Alex, putting the cap back on the acetone bottle before turning back to Alex. “What about your dad?”

 

“They shut down his project. They all think he’s a looney.”

 

Max nods, feeling a little wave a relief go through him. “And what about you?”

 

Alex shrugs, or shrugs as much as he can with the weight of Michael on his shoulder. “I guess I don’t know what to think anymore,” he says, and then gazes as Michael’s sleeping face with such an open look of bewilderment and adoration that Max thinks he needs to clarify some things. He owes it to Michael, after all.

 

“He would have told you, you know?” Max tells him. “He just didn’t want to put me or Isobel in danger. Exposing us,” he explains and Alex nods, understanding. “But if there was someone he could have told, it would’ve been you. He didn’t keep you in the dark intentionally,” Max smiles. “My guess is he was trying to keep you safe as well.”

 

Alex smiles then, tears welling up in his eyes and for a moment, Max wonders if he might have said the wrong thing. He doesn’t have time to think about it though, because Michael suddenly jerks, still unconscious.

 

“What’s happening to him?” Alex asks, worried.

 

Max shakes his head. “I don’t know, it’s—”

 

Alex flinches, face screwed up in pain, his hands coming up over his ears.

 

“Alex, what’s wrong?”

 

Alex winces. “Uh, bad case of tinnitus? It’s been happening on and off all night.”

 

Max frowns. “High-piercing sound?” Alex nods. “What else?”

 

Alex sighs, taking his hands off his ears, his face relaxing a little. “I don’t know, very fast heartbeat? And there’s this—this kind of buzzing underneath my skin.”

 

Max smiles then, recognizing the signs. “Like you’re vibrating.”

 

Alex’s head snaps up. “Yes! Exactly like that.”

 

“And this started happening tonight?” Max asks, putting the pieces of the puzzles together in his mind.

 

“No,” Alex says. “It’s happened before. Just never that bad.”

 

“Hm,” Max hums, a smirk forming on his lips. “That explains why Michael is passed out on your couch.”

 

Alex raises an eyebrow. “It does?”

 

Max doesn’t answer right away, trying to find the best way to explain himself to Alex in a way that won’t end up with him freaking out. “Aliens have this sort of… bond? To a one particular human.”

 

Alex stares at him blankly. “Like the werewolf thing in twilight.”

 

Max cocks his head, chuckling. “Dude, _no_.” He rolls his eyes, smiling. “We noticed it a couple of years back. Whenever Isobel was weakened because of her powers or when he felt threatened, she’d unconsciously reach out for Noah.”

 

“Yeah, because that’s her husband.” Alex answers rationally.

 

“That’s what we thought too at first, but then Noah started showing symptoms—elevated heartbeat, internal tremors, tinnitus—whenever Isobel was getting closer. And then, whenever she was actually physically close to him, she’d pass out and recover faster than she should’ve before.”

 

Max looks at Alex, expecting maybe disbelief or an objection, but the other man just stays silent. Max continues. “It was like she felt… _safe_. Safe enough to let her guard down and just take a few hours to recharge her batteries. Like she was feeding off Noah’s energy.”

 

Alex stays silent for a moment longer, his gaze flickering between Max and Michael. “I don’t know Max,” he sighs. “Sounds kinda twilight to me.”

 

Max smiles. It _does_ kind of sound like imprinting now that he thinks of it, but there’s no way he’s admitting it to Alex Manes. Michael wouldn’t let him live this down. 

 

Alex runs his fingers slowly through Michael’s curls, his other hand wrapped around his wrist as if he’s just trying to find the reassuring beat of Michael’s pulse. “So who is it for you?”

 

Max blushes. “Oh, uh,” he splutters. A picture of Liz’s smile, her bright eyes, her standing in the night with a red dress flashes before Max’s eyes. The sound of her laugh echoes in his mind. “No one. I guess just I haven’t found the one yet.”

 

“Mmm,” Alex nods, his attention still thankfully focused on Michael. “I think that’s a lie.” He raises his head to give Max a pointed look. “And you know it.”

 

Max shrugs, his cheeks heating up some more. “Soulmate bond is too cheesy for me,” he lies.

 

Alex smiles, soft and sleepy, his fingers still gently stroking the skin of Michael’s hand. “Sure.”

 

Max smiles back, feeling warmed by the sight in front of him; Michael in Alex’s arms, safe, being cared for. He finds himself yearning for it.

 

“Well,” he clears his throat, standing up from the couch. “It’s getting late and clearly, Michael is in safe hands now.” He picks up the empty bottles of acetone and puts them back in his bag. “You’re okay with keeping an eye on him?”

 

“Yeah,” Alex murmurs, smiling. “I’ll manage.”

 

Max nods, tipping his hat awkwardly and starts making his way to the door.

 

“Max,” Alex calls out before Max leaves the room. “Thank you,” he says and Max smiles at him. Alex turns back to Michael and Max thinks this is it, and moves to leave again but Alex speaks up once more. “She loves you too, you know?”

 

Max’s heart skips a beat, and he can’t make himself turn around to look at Alex. He doesn’t trust his own face.

 

“Just give her time. You’ll figure it out.”

 

Max swallows down the lump in his throat and takes a few steadying breaths. He finds that Alex’s words make him feel lighter and help him breathe a little easier.

 

They’ll figure out. And he steps out into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Ready to Start by Arcade Fire. I'm softguerin on tumblr, come say hi!


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